Page 41 of The Villain Edit

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her head tip back, and what I wouldn’t give to suck on the soft skin of her neck. To leave her marked to hell because she’s mine right now. My cock hurts for wanting.

Ash pulls her skirt up and her panties to the side and I have to look.

“Eyes on the road,” she snaps, pulling my hand away from her hot pussy.

I grumble, but she’s not punishing me for not listening. She curls my fingers, straightening my index and middle again. I suck in a breath because she wants me inside her.

Forcing my breath out, I check my speed and risk a glance at her pussy. She’s bare except for a neatly trimmed patch. I stare at the road while she moves my fingers up and down from her entrance to her hard little clit. Teasing. Herself or me or both.

Not that she’s in control. Something I let her know when I dip my middle finger inside her.

My jeans are too tight for this, but I don’t care because Ash feels like heaven and I can’t stop glancing at her out of the corner of my eye as I add another finger.

Her eyes flutter closed, her hand tightening on my wrist as I plunge into her tight little hole. My cock aches at how hot and wet she is, her pussy sucking at my fingers.

“Ash.” It comes out more of a bark than a growl, but her eyes fly open and I keep moving, thrusting into her. “Look at me.”

Irritation crosses her face. “Eyes. On. The. Road.”

She’s right. I need to stop looking at her. It’s not easy, but I do it. She releases my hand and I can feel her fingers move to her clit, circling faster than I could at this angle, all while I fuck her with my fingers.

Ashley’s gasping, riding my hand like we aren’t flying down the highway at sixty miles per hour. My eyes flick between the straight road and the speedometer because if I don’t I will crash.

I steal the quickest glance anyway, and damn. This is how I’m going to remember my time with her when it’s over. She’s gorgeous, so uninhibited, blonde hair everywhere, pink lips parted, tits bouncing, pussy glistening around my fingers…

A handful of strokes later, she clenches hard around me and falls apart, my name ringing out over the noise of the wind and the radio.

Myname.

Her thighs clamp over my hand, but I can still move my fingers, driving her harder, higher. She gasps and pants, swears, and when she finally goes slack, I slide my fingers out and bring them to my mouth. She tastes amazing. I suck her off my fingers, aware of her heated gaze. I need her mouth or her pussy—both, ideally.

But this is as far as it goes. It ends here.

She shifts in her seat, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. “Thank you for letting me come in your car.” She grins. “All over your expensive upholstery.”

I give her a quick glare, but I’m too hard to give a shit about the upholstery, and all I can think about is getting my face between her legs.

My fingers are tapping along to the rhythm of the song on the radio, and I’m trying to deep breathe my way through the erection from hell while hoping my leather passenger seat smells like Ash’s pussy and wondering if I can find a discreet way to check when she gets out of the car next.

Minutes pass and every muscle in my body is still tense and the need to come isn’t going away.

The faintest trace of her lingers on my fingers and she has to know what I’m doing when I keep scrubbing my hand over my face, my fingers over my lips.

After a few minutes of silence, she sighs in satisfaction and stretches out in the seat. “I needed that.”

I grunt because if I speak, I’m afraid I’ll suggest pulling over so she can suck my cock. Or ride it. Her choice, because I need it too. Then I’ll get her off again on the side of the road. Spread her on the hood of my car and eat her out until her screams fill the empty sky.

This is insane.

I’m not this guy. I just broke who knows how many traffic laws without even thinking about the consequences and I’m contemplating breaking a few more.

It feels fucking awesome.

And terrifying, because how did she do this to me? Reduce me to something so primal? How can I lock it back down?

Gabriel Sinclair doesn’t lose control and finger women while blasting down the highway. He drives the speed limit and gets them off later, in the privacy of a bedroom, while being in an actual committed relationship with them. Like a gentleman, not an animal.

Except this is what I wanted when I put my hand on her leg. I can’t lie to myself about who I am anymore.

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